Two nights ago, I tossed left and right in my bed , restless and not knowing what I have been missing these past few days. Isolation takes a toll and there are days that I can’t bear the reclusivity. Those were the days when I felt that I don’t differ to the things you can find in my room. A regular fixture, as if I am resembling to some breathing machine with a pair of eyes traveling the whiteness of the ceiling. I imagine the freedom of my mortal being mixing in the crowd around the city. A stranger with an imaginary wall, like the others.

A study says that there is a silent epidemic affecting millions of people, slowly killing and obliterates their very existence. A persistent loneliness, that leads to severe depression due to non-interaction as a result of a person’s self-imposed isolation.

People need inter-personal relationship with others. In the world with the advancement of science and technology and the quick fix of web-based communication, people are making way to get connected, through multiple virtual identities impersonally. Social networking groups in the Internet replaces actual person to person interaction and thus making the present generation accustomed to getting glued to their computer screens, 24/7.

I admit that if I will not take steps to get out and mingle with others, I might succumb to the ill effects of my being passive and recluse. That is why, it was a blessing that I have brought home something new in my life. A living thing, but not a pet, since the landlord would not approve of any pets in the house. It was a plant given to me by a friend, which has a life, and could share my space and can introduce me to first steps of rejuvenation.

If I can be able to take care for the plant and make it grow through constant watering, nourishment and exposure to sun and wind, it can become a litmus test. Wherein each new leaf that might sprang out of it signifies the measure of the heart ready to forge new meaningful relationship with people. A confidence that I can be able to nurture worthy life connection with them, in love and compassion.

The plant, will ever be a constant reminder, that people are not just things. People are people, who is capable of loving and be loved in return.

I was on my way to a restaurant that late afternoon to meet a friend, hurrying and my mind was filled with gloomy thoughts. My mind just wandered aimlessly, battling inner fears.

Rebel as I was, it seems that I am all wearied and fighting against the world, crushed in the agony of my self-defeat- I succumbed into powerlessness. I have met a familiar darkness of my soul once again. In such a long time.

I am depressed that day. Defeated by reason. I am filled with anger emblazoned across my face. That day- I am not the usual masquerading, self-hiding chameleon in the cloak of coolness and charm. I am likened to a ticking bomb.

I have questions. And lots of them. As endless as the broken road markings. My combatant nature would never accept any kind word- even from the most endearing. That was one time I had feared myself the most- who is capable of hurting myself. Like a jagged knife ready to cut the ventricles of humanity in me.

Somewhere, in a sudden mysterious way, I heard a helpless chirp. I stopped and started searching the source by my side. And I have found a little bird, that has fallen from a bird’s nest from the nearby palm tree and landed on the ground. It is too early for the little bird to take flight. My hardened composure melts gradually into a compassionate being. How on earth, this hapless sight would pour a cold, cold ice to my raging soul?

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a stray cat emerged. Prowling as if it is finding something to devour. In my quick thinking, I immediately snatched the little bird from the ground, rescuing it from danger. From harm and from the claws of the enemy- so vicious and lethal.

Just when I thought, that what I did, is the right one, I felt a sudden pain. A stinging one. The little bird had bitten me. Surprised as I was, I accidentally dropped the bird away farther into the ground. Then the next thing I heard is a scuffle in the bushes until the hopeless chirping stopped.

I am overwhelmed. I just stand there and was filled with a sudden grief. I can’t believe that life has been snatched away from my very hands. The life of a fragile creature. A tragic lost. Tears quietly streamed down my face until it became flood as pent-up emotions surged and overpowered my anger like a dam breached loose.

That moment, I wonder, how vivid this circumstance made my soul saved from drowning and wallowing in despair? My life, I learned, can be like the hopeless little bird, compared to a child out of God’s hand. How powerful can God teach me a great lesson, a stiff-necked person as I am, who never learned from His admonishing? The questions that I have over-analyzed for years has crumbled under the weight of God’s wisdom which is mightier than what I can comprehend.

Like a prodigal son who came back to his father’s arm, I did the same coming home to what God has purposed me to belong. With the lesson of that hopeless little bird, I just knew that my life on earth rest only on His hands. All I needed to do is to have an unwavering faith and complete trust on Him. And God has impressed to me to stay in His dwelling place as long as I live.

What if I finally embark on a mission to indigenous lands? How can I accept their way of life? Will I accept their culture as superior than I have born with and satisfied with? Will I ever change my way of life and draw some inspiration and become like them-unwary of the stress of the modern life, which to them is unknown?

What if I am old enough to witness the First Quarter Storm, would I become a community organizer? Would I then be able to stand up for the right of the masses during those dictatorial times or I would rather clam up under the weight of fear and apathy? Would I be willing to be put into prison, or die in a firing squad like a martyr and become one of those missing persons that until now that their whereabouts cannot be found?

What if I become a priest? Can I be able to resist the temptation to marry and forever become celibate? Would I be able to help others to know God better and make some positive impacts on their spiritual life?

What if I become a social worker? How could I keep the orphans, the old men and women and the widows from seeing life as still beautiful brimming with hope without them thinking of their circumstances? Would I be able to bear not to cry when I am so emotionally attached to their sentiments, their anguish and their fears?

What if I become a nurse or a doctor? How could I be able to be numb on seeing death everyday? How could I try not to think of pain? How could I not try to think about the families who lost their loved ones to sickness or a tragic accident? How could I not sleep enduring the hours spent caring and hoping for the patients would ever live for one more day?

There are just so many individuals whose life are exemplary. Those who are still living or have departed from this world, whose life they have given unselfishly to the best that they can without thinking about personal gain or fame. They have lived an uncommon life away from their comfort zones.

The nameless and faceless strangers whom we might meet across the street. Or your neighbor. Or a friend. We never know, until we came closer seeing their true light. These are the breed of people who dedicated themselves for a cause of uplifting humanity. The kind of people who is not afraid of being different and dared to be what they are destined to be.

There are three words to learn if you want to be in harmony with almost anyone. This is sorry-if you have unintentionally hurt or done mistake against someone. Another is thank you -if you have received in gratitude any kind of help from someone else. And the last word is please-if you need something or simply asking for some favors.

These three words I am not accustomed to before. But thanks, I met someone who is a principled man and indirectly taught me to practice these three words to live by each day. One of them, is by saying thank you. This proves to be a liberating experience for me.

Another friend of mine has told me that it is a real pity for someone who is perenially ungrateful of what he has. In poverty or in prosperity, we ought to thank the very people who helped us up and in gratitude to whatever circumstances we might be in.

To be surrounded with ungrateful people is a stress. These are people who saps out the energy from you, wallowing almost each day for the things they don’t have. At some point in our lives, we should practice contentment. But I agree that this trait would be very hard for people who doesn’t have peace within themselves. People who harbor some excess baggages from unforgotten past, may it be failure, low self-esteem or hidden depressions.

Complaining often lead us to forget for the things that we should be thankful for. And an unforgiving heart would only lead us much deeper into misery.

Hames

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Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

The Book

Clay Jensen returns home from school to find a mysterious box with his name on it lying on his porch. Inside he discovers cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker—his classmate and crush—who committed suicide two weeks earlier.
On tape, Hannah explains that there are thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. Clay is one of them. If he listens, he’ll find out how he made the list.